


Raising the Stakes

by ACertainZest



Category: Castle
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Poker, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 17:35:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4796261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACertainZest/pseuds/ACertainZest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink meme prompt: "Season 1/2. Beckett offers up a blowjob in a dare/bet. Maybe over a game of poker, him shutting up for a week, etc."<br/>This takes place near the end of season 1, after 1x09 but before 1x10.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raising the Stakes

It's poker night at Castle's loft and Beckett is not having a good run. The pile of chips in front of her is rapidly dwindling. She's taking a lot of ribbing from her friends and coworkers tonight, but she's in a good mood so she keeps her poker face in place and lets the teasing roll right off her back. Castle is still annoying, of course, the way he grins every time she loses, but at least he's giving the same to everyone else too. All in good fun.

Ryan is the first spoilsport to call it a night, followed shortly by Lanie. Beckett thinks maybe her luck will pick up with the smaller pool of opponents, but it's not to be. She loses another hand, big, and then a small one, and then it's Captain Montgomery looking at his watch, checking the texts from his wife, sighing and reluctantly cashing out.

"Ride home?" the captain asks Esposito, who gives a sigh of his own and tosses down his cards.

"Sounds good, sir, thanks."

"Beckett?"

"I've got my car, thank you, sir," she answers, running her hand through her short hair, reaching under the table for the shoes that she kicked off somewhere between the second beer and the third busted straight. Nods and "g'nights" and hand-slaps all around, and then it's just her and Castle at the table. And although she has half-heartedly started pulling on her shoes, Castle is shuffling and dealing again.

"One more round, Detective," and he doesn't pitch it as a question. She shrugs and picks up her hole cards for a quick peek.

Castle wins the hand, and immediately starts to reshuffle. Beckett considers calling it a night, but what the hell, she still has a few chips left. And she keeps thinking she can win one hand, just one, big enough to wipe that damn smirk off his stupid annoying face. She grabs another beer from the cooler and pops it open while Castle is dealing.

He bids low in the opening round and Beckett glares at him. "Going easy on me, Castle? I hope you're not getting soft."

"Just wouldn't want you to be finished too soon," he shoots back, and there's the smirk again. God, she hates that obnoxious smirk. His eyes flicker up to hers and she realizes that she was kind of staring at his mouth. His stupid smirking mouth which is definitely not at all interesting. She has got to win this next hand.

"Okay, Castle," Beckett challenges as he picks up the cards to deal the flop. "What would Nikki Heat do, when she's been playing poker all night and she's almost out of chips...but not ready to admit defeat?"

Castle's hands twitch and he pauses in the act of setting down the deck; gives her a look that's a bit surprised, a bit calculating. "Nikki? Well, that's easy," he answers, his eyes never leaving her face. "She'd up the ante."

She nods slowly, peeks at her hole cards, thinks about it. She has two eights and the flop is just a two, a three, and a jack. But knowing her luck tonight, Castle probably has a couple more jacks in his hand. "I'll pass."

He looks a little disappointed, but passes also. The turn yields another jack and Beckett is careful not to bite her lip, which she knows is her worst tell. If Castle has a jack in the hole, then he has three of a kind and probably thinks that's pretty good. And it would beat her two pair. But what are the odds that he really has a jack?

She decides not to go all-in just yet, but she only has a few chips left anyway. She silently pushes all but one of them into the pot. Castle cocks his head slightly, like he's trying to figure her out. She keeps her poker face in place and takes a swig of her beer, swallowing slowly and then licking her lips equally slowly, watching his eyes track the movements of her mouth and throat. Oh, she really shouldn't be teasing him like this, should she? She's suddenly acutely aware of the fact that everyone else has gone, Castle's female relatives are out for the night, and it's just the two of them here, now. Maybe she has had enough beer for tonight.

"I'll call," he says, and clears his throat. Beckett bites the inside of her cheek to keep a straight face. On second thought, maybe a little taste of his own medicine could be good for him.

Castle puts in his chips and deals the river. It's an eight. Beckett schools her breathing to remain slow and even. Now she has a full house, and even if Castle has a jack, she has him beat. Unless he has a jack and another two or three. What are the odds? she wonders again.

In the space between one heartbeat and the next she makes her decision. "Okay, Castle," she says, pitching her voice low and watching his eyes widen slightly. "Let's make this interesting." She gestures to his impressive pile of chips. "If I win the hand, I get half of that."

The annoying smirk is back. "And if I win?"

"If you win...which you won't..." she smirks right back at him, "...you get just what you've been wanting from me since the day we met."

He takes a quick startled breath in and stares at her. "A kiss? With tongue?"

"A..." Her eyebrows shoot up and she huffs in disbelief, because it's so not what she was expecting. "Really, Castle? I say whatever you want, and all you're gonna go with is a kiss?"

Then a weird thing happens. She can actually _see_ him deliberately discard the smart-ass remark that comes instantly to his mind. Instead he just sits back in his seat and says carefully, "Well, a guy's gotta start somewhere."

Beckett is not at all sure what to do with this calm, poised Castle who just passed up a beautiful opportunity for innuendo, so she falls back on her poker face again. "Okay. That's the bet. Half your chips, or a kiss. You in?"

"Oh, I'm in." He quickly eyeballs the pile of chips in front of him, splits it in two, and pushes half into the middle of the table. "Let's see it, Detective."

She's not much of one for melodrama, so she simply tosses her two eights face-up onto the table. Castle's eyebrows go up. "Oh."

"Oh?" She narrows her eyes at him. "Your turn, Castle. Let's see it."

He grimaces and turns his cards up. He's got...a two and a three. No jack. She wins.

But she suddenly realizes that her ploy has backfired. Because now all she can think about, as Castle pushes the pile of chips to her side, is that kiss. The one that she doesn't owe him. The one that she didn't want, doesn't want because she hates him. Right? And she certainly isn't staring at his mouth again right now. Is she?

He's looking at her, not smirking, not smiling, but watching her watch his mouth. When she pulls her eyes up to his again, the dark heat in his gaze makes her suck in her breath, her stomach twisting. Oh shit, she is in trouble here.

And again there's that instant where she is watching him consciously decide not to say something insinuating. It's _freaky_. As the moment passes, all he says is "Good hand. Again?"

"I hate you," she mutters, and then she's getting up from her chair, she's rounding the table and sliding onto his lap, and before she has a chance to think about it her mouth is on his. Her hands are in his hair and she's kissing that stupid smirky mouth and he's not wasting any time -- his hands on her back pulling her in closer, his mouth opening, his tongue stroking her lips. She should have known he would be an amazing kisser. He tastes like beer and his lips are so soft and warm, his tongue slick on hers, winding its way into her mouth. She hears herself moan and kind of hates herself for it, but it feels so damn good.

And then she's pulling away, standing back up, forcing herself to go back to her chair. She's taking another long drag of her beer and a deep breath to keep her voice steady as she orders, "Deal."

Castle is staring at her, all tousled hair and reddened lips, with a hint of her lip gloss on there too, and she wants to feel a thrill of triumph at finally having turned the tables on him, except she's about as undone as he looks. She's just doing a slightly better job of hiding it, this time.

"Um." He clears his throat. "Yeah." He picks up the cards, hands maybe shaking a tiny bit, and begins to shuffle.

Beckett breathes slowly, deliberately, for a few moments until she's sure that she has her voice back under control. Then she says, "So...." His eyes snap back up to her, his expression guarded, even as his hands are still deftly flipping the cards over each other. "...The chips are even now," she goes on, carefully steady. "What does Nikki do when she gets to that point? Does she get bored and walk away?"

Castle studies her as he deals out the first few cards. "I guess that depends on the situation," he replies at last. "On what she's trying to get out of the game. Sometimes there's more going on than just who wins and who loses."

For a moment she can't breathe, feels like her heart might have stopped. It sounds _so_ much like something she might say. How has she become so transparent to this ridiculous overgrown child?

Castle slowly puts down the deck and picks up his hole cards, watching her. She takes a quick breath in, snaps out of it, blinking quickly. Forces herself to refocus on the game. She has terrible cards -- a nine and a seven. She hopes her poker face is still working. "Pass."

He passes also, and deals the flop. It's no help at all so she passes again. The turn yields another seven, so she shoves in a good chunk of the pile of chips, just for the hell of it. Castle matches the bet without comment and deals the final card. It's a solitary queen and all Beckett has is that pair of sevens. She studies the table and contemplates folding.

The sound of Castle clearing his throat again brings her eyes up, and she finds him again looking at her with that inscrutable, calm expression. "New bet, Beckett."

She lifts her eyebrows at him. "I believe it's my turn, Castle."

He waves that off. "If you win ... I'll go away."

She blinks at him in disbelief. "Go away?"

"For a week. I'll leave you alone for a week." The barest hint of a smirk around the corners of his mouth. "That's what you really, really want me to do, isn't it, Detective?"

"Oh, sure," she cuts back, pulling sarcasm around her like a security blanket. "Like you could possibly stay away that long. You'd snap and come crawling back after two days." 

He doesn't take the bait. "One week, Detective. If you win." His eyes twinkle a little. "I think you'll miss my startlingly helpful insights around the precinct, but you'll manage somehow."

Beckett snorts out a brief laugh at that. "Okay. Fine." Maybe it's the beer, or the late night, or the kiss making her reckless, but whatever the reason, she's upping the ante. "And if you win, you get what you _really_ want." A gesture with her hand indicating the floor in front of Castle's chair. "Me, on my knees, right there."

His eyes widen and then darken and _whoa_ , she should have left when the others left. Definitely. 

"You better be damn sure about this, Beckett."

She isn't. Oh, she most certainly isn't, but she can't let him see her flustered. She takes another look at her cards as a stalling tactic. And her cards are terrible. What was she thinking? Her brain has no control right now over the things her mouth is saying.

"That's the bet, Castle. A blowjob for a week of peace and quiet." 

She lifts her eyes back up just in time to see a jolt of surprise flash across his face, along with ... something else she can't quite name. But she sort of suspects it's the same something else that's currently coiling up hot and tight at the bottom of her stomach.

"Let's see 'em," he says so quietly she can hardly hear. It hits her that he is straining the edges of his careful control. Well, she knows what _that_ is like.

"You first."

He tosses his cards down on the table. He's got a queen. A pair of queens. He wins.

Slowly, carefully, she gets up and rounds the table. His eyes widen as he watches her approach. She leans down and brings her mouth right up to his ear. Feels him shiver when her breath whispers across his skin, and she smiles a little because she likes that -- oh, she really likes knowing that she has this power over him.

Right into his ear, she murmurs, "Does this mean I get to call you Kitten now?" And she slides gracefully down onto her knees in front of him.

His eyes are already wide and slightly glazed, staring down at her, his mouth open a little. When she brings her hands up to fall on his thighs he startles out of it, reaches toward her uncertainly.

"Beckett. Hey. It's just a dumb game, you don't have to- You don't-"

"Come on, Castle." She gives him an eye-roll, to show that things haven't changed between them. "Of course I don't _have_ to. How long have you known me now?" And she reaches over and unfastens his pants.

He sucks in a long breath, his expression loose with astonishment. She watches how his chest rises and falls as she slides one hand inside his boxers and finds him. He jerks slightly at her touch, his hand again rising toward her, and she smiles lazily.

"If you touch my hair I'll shoot you," she says coolly, wrapping her hand fully around him. He gasps loudly and his hand drops back down at his side.

He's already half-hard in her hand and thickening rapidly as she pulls him free, her other hand sliding up and down his leg, feeling the tension in his thick quad muscles. She leans forward and presses her closed lips to the tip of him, taking a deep breath in through her nose, sampling his smell. It's his soap and his cologne and just _him_ , already such a familiar mix of scents, and she finds herself suddenly hungry to taste him, heat flooding her underwear. She presses her thighs together and opens her lips, letting him in just a little bit, her tongue darting forward briefly. He groans and she lifts her eyes to his face, finds him staring with open mouth and wide, disbelieving eyes.

She smiles again and wraps her long fingers around his shaft, taking a little more into her mouth and just holding it there, moving her tongue leisurely over the tip, her hand stroking slowly down the length, with a little twist at the end that makes him gasp.

"Beckett..." and he seems to want to say more but can't form words, just a series of urgent little noises as she takes in another inch with her tongue swirling faster now and her hand twisting up and down in counterpoint. His own hands are clenched around the edge of his chair, white-knuckled. 

It has been a long time since she deep-throated and she needs to work her way up to it, so she backs off now, spends some time running the flat of her tongue up and down, her hand sneaking down to find his balls and roll them between her fingers. The throbbing between her thighs is getting stronger as his helpless whimpers fill her ears. Her whole body thrills to the feeling of control, the smell and taste of him, the heavy weight on her tongue, the way his eyes keep drifting shut until he forces them open again to watch her. She shifts a little on the floor, rubbing her legs together, teasing herself.

There's no way Castle could have known how much she enjoys giving head, but now it'll be one more detail about her personality to keep him awake at night. The thought sends a pleasant shudder through her and she presses her thighs together even harder.

Unable to wait any longer, she lifts herself up a little higher on her knees and opens her mouth wide, taking him in. He calls out her name desperately, his voice cracking as she lets him slide all the way to the back of her throat. She relaxes her muscles and breathes carefully through her nose, feeling him pulse against her tongue. Braces her hands on his knees and lifts up, her saliva coating him, and then back down again. And again. She lifts almost all the way off on each up-stroke, applying a hard suck to the tip of him for just an instant before sinking back down.

He's whimpering continuously above her now, his whole body tight with the effort of holding still. When he chokes out her name again in warning she lifts her eyes up to his, full of heat, and gives him a little nod. Then she sucks him all the way in again and he groans deeply and empties himself into her mouth.

She pulls back and lets it hit the back of her tongue, swallowing quickly, holding him still with one hand while she focuses on catching every drop.

As he stills, panting loudly into the silence of the room, his forehead shiny with sweat, she gentles her touch, running her tongue lightly up and down to clean him off. Finished, she tucks him back into his pants, zipping up carefully. 

Then she rises gracefully to her feet and turns away. Her knees are a little shaky with unsatisfied need and she covers quickly, forcing her movements to stay slow and calm as she rounds the table again and collects her purse. Slumped in his chair, looking utterly drained, he watches her gather up her things.

"G'night, Castle. Thanks for the game."

She just needs to get out of there, get home to her trusty vibrator as fast as she can.

She's almost all the way to the door before he recovers himself and catches up with her, grabbing her arm. "Wait. Beckett, wait."

Pulling her no-nonsense cop facade back on, she turns her best narrow-eyed expression of disdain on him. "What?"

But it doesn't quell him like it usually does. "Beckett, you can't just-" a gesture behind him toward the chair, "...and then just walk off."

"Sure I can. Watch me."

She turns toward the door again but he spins her, shoves her up against the wall, pressing his hard body against her. Before she can draw breath to scold him, his mouth is on hers, his tongue invading deeply, tasting himself on her. She won't kiss him back, she _won't_ \-- but she is. Curving her hand around the back of his neck, sliding her tongue against his.

Suddenly his hand is inside her pants and she gasps into his mouth, her hips twitching involuntarily as he worms his way down. "Castle!"

"Come on, Beckett." He drops a hot wet kiss to her jaw, his other hand opening the button and zipper on her pants to give him more room. "You're totally worked up right now. Let me help you with that." He gets his hand all the way in, to where his fingers can brush the soaked cotton of her panties, and he groans against her neck when he feels just how wet she is. "Oh shit, Beckett. Let me."

She means to say no, she means to tell him to stop. Really she does. But his thick fingers somehow know their way around her body so well, and she can't find any words at all when those fingers dip inside her panties and stroke her. All she has is a long moan, which she dimly thinks she ought to be embarrassed of, and she presses her face into Castle's shoulder, clutching at his biceps as she rolls herself against his hand. She's already so close, and when he slides two fingers inside her and twists his hand to get his thumb in just the right spot, there's no going back. She moans again into the fabric of his shirt as she clenches around his fingers and everything goes blank for a long delicious moment. Her knees almost give out and he holds her up with his body, bracing her against the wall, still working her with his all-knowing fingers as she slowly floats down.

Breathing hard, she forces her fingers to untangle from his shirt, pulling back from him as he extricates his hand from her pants. His eyes are stormy when she makes herself look up at him. He lifts his hand to his mouth and licks his fingers, making her shudder a little. But there's no gloating or triumph in his face, no annoying smirk, no sign that he's going to tease or taunt. Just open hunger and maybe a little awe.

"Beckett," he breathes again, still crowding her against the wall with his body. "Stay. Come to my bedroom." She's already shaking her head, lowering her hands to refasten her pants, but he keeps trying. "Please. Let me taste you. Let me make you scream."

She looks up sharply at that, but although the words are evocative of the cocky Castle she knows, his face is still just earnest, pleading. She can't quite bring herself to snap at him, but she knows she has to shut this down. Now.

"No, Castle." Firmly she pushes him away. She scoops up her purse from the floor where it fell when he grabbed her. "It's time for me to go home. The game's over. You won."

"The _game_! That's not-" he starts incredulously, but then stops himself too, carefully smoothing out his expression. _Sometimes there's more going on than just who wins and who loses._ "...Okay. Well. Um."

His discomfiture helps her regain her own equilibrium, pushing them back into their usual pattern. She gives him an eye-roll and tolerant shake of her head.

"Night, Castle. See you tomorrow."

She opens the door and is gone.


End file.
